Zuma's Fear (Chapters 1 to 3)
Please note I do not own this story . I merely have permission from original writer HavocHound on fanfiction.net to post this here on his behalf. Anyways, Zuma's Fear is byfar the best Paw Patrol fanon story I have read in a long time and highly recommend it to everybody! Please enjoy! Chapter 1 Down at the Lookout of Adventure Bay, the six pups of Paw Patrol were doing their weekly athletics tournament. Every week, the pups did this not only to stay in shape duties, but to also have fun as well. Each pup had their own special skill they were great at: Marshall was the fastest runner, Skye was the highest jumper, Zuma was swimmer, Chase was the best climber, Rocky had the best balance, and Rubble was the strongest lifter. At the moment, Rocky and Rubble were preparing for the obstacle course while Chase held the black and white flag. The two pups readied themselves as Chase raised The other pup barked in anticipation as they counted down. "Three! Two! One! Go!" Chase brought down the flag, the two pups howling as they raced down the field. They first headed towards the tire tracks where they jumped from each one before heading towards the trampoline. Nearby was a rope, tired to a tree branch that they had to swing from to a box on the other side to land on. Rocky was able to bounce first and even doing a Tarzan yell as he sailed in the air before landing on the box. Rubble jumped and followed right behind him. "Can't catch me, Rubble!" shouted Rocky with a laugh, but his cry was cut short when he tripped over a snail in his path and landed on his back. The snail managed to air and land on his nose making the others rear back at the gross sight. Rubble ran past Rocky, laughing all the way. "What was that, slow poke? That snail suits you!" Rocky growled and jumped back onto his paws to chase after the bulldog. They were now heading for a large log that they had to run through while dealing with a slippery that had been placed on the bottom. Rocky had no trouble, bur Rubble found it hard to stay standing. Just as they were about to reach the end of the log, Rubble spotted something and gasped. "Spider!" Indeed, a large daddy long leg was dandling on a web string in front of the exit. Rubble grinded his paws to a halt, but ended up getting bumped in the back by Rocky. tumbled out of the log and into a small dog pile as the spider, knocked off its string, landed on Rubble's nose. "Ah! Get it off! Get it off!" shouted Rubble, jumping off and shaking his head. The spider eventually got free and skittered away. "Ewww! Spider cooties!" Rubble then proceeded wipe his nose on the grass much to the laughter of the others. Rocky, grunting, got up and shook his head. "It was just a small spider. Besides, that kind isn't deadly." "Doesn't matter! It was still creepy," said Rubble, shivering. "Ugh, I hate spiders." "I can't believe such a strong pup like you is so afraid of little spiders," laughed Rocky, earning a glare in return. "Says the pup that hates water, and lives near a bay?" countered Rubble with a jab that made Rocky blush. "Touché." Skye walked over and put her paw on her friend's shoulder. "It's okay, Rubble. All of us are afraid of something. Remember when we helped Alex with the dentist? We of what we were afraid of." Rubble was about to agree until something click in hi head. "Wait a minute. We never found out what Zuma's fear was." Everyone turned to the water rescue pup who just smirked. "That's because I'm not afwaid of anything. I'm the bwavest pup in all of Adventuwe Bay!" "Seriously? You're not scared of spiders, snakes, rats, or skunks?" asked Rubble. "Nope." "What about heights?" asked Marshall. "Nah, I like flying, dude. Not as much as swimming, but its weally cool." "Okay, ghosts?" pointed out Chase. "You were really spooked at Halloween." "Dude, evewyone was spooked at Halloween, that's not a fair one. Face it, out of all you pups, I'm feawless." said Zuma, puffing out his chest before he let out a yawn. around to head for his pup house. "I'm beat from all this. I'm gonna take a nap." The others watched the Labrador walk away, but they looked at each other with raised eyebrows. "Hey, does anybody really know why Ryder didn't pick Zuma that day? kind of seems unfair that we all went but Zuma," said Chase. "Maybe Ryder doesn't know what he's afraid of?" suggested Marshall, scratching his ears. "I mean I don't. Does anybody?" "Me neither." "Same here." "I… don't really know." "Nope." The five blinked upon realizing they didn't know anything about what Zuma was afraid off. "Huh, this is weird. I mean we all knew each other's fears for a long time. Even fear wasn't new to us," pointed out Chase as he rubbed his chin. "This is a bit suspicious." "What is?" asked Rubble. "Well," Chase started to pace around, his eyes in deep concentration. "What do we know about Zuma? I mean, really know about him? Like, where did he come from and He pointed to himself and then at Marshall. "Marshall and I were adopted by Ryder around the same time. We practically were raised by him." "That kind of makes us brothers, eh?" asked Marshall, nudging his friend with a grin. "Although, I'm the big brother since I'm older then you." "And yet you still sleep with a teddy bear," chuckled Chase. "Leave Mr. Snuggles out of this!" argued a blushing Marshall. "I'm from a family of flying stunt pups," said Skye with pride as she flipped through the air. "I just always thought being a rescue pup was cooler then stunts. Plus, helping is a great feeling." "Well, you know me," said Rubble, shrugging his shoulders. "I never knew my folks. I just wandered around ever since I could remember." "And… well, you know about me," muttered Rocky, looking away with anger and sadness in his eyes. The others respectful said nothing to the mixed breed that had the story out of all of them. Rocky himself tried to push away the memories of the cruel owner he once had, and the many times he was abused until he was rescued by animal It took months to heal from those scars, but thanks to Ryder he never had to worry about such a thing happening again. "Right, so what about Zuma?" asked Chase, again. "He was before Rubble joined us, but all Ryder said was that he found him and brought him home." "Why does it matter? Zuma probably had a good reason for not telling anyone," said Rocky, getting a bad feeling about this. Zuma was his best friend and he didn't feel digging into his past." "I mean, if it was something bad, doesn't he deserve a chance to come forward with it on his own? Remember how long it took me?" "Do you think it might be bad?" asked Skye with a worried face. Rocky bit his lip, but didn't say anything. If anything, he knew it had to be bad from personal experience. It was back during the week when Zuma first arrived… While it was no hidden secret that Rocky hated anything to do with water, even he had to drink it from time to time. Drinking water was fine, it was going into his mouth of his fur and he needed it to survive. Any other type of water, however, he wanted to be as far away as possible. Still, when one's mouth is dry as a desert in the middle night, you tend to obey your thirst. Waking up from his dream, Rocky yawn and smacked his lips together a bit before walking to his water bowl for a quick drink. With half open eyelids, he reached down few licks, but found nothing in his bowl. Rubbing his eyes, Rocky saw that it held no water, making him groan. "Great, now what?" he whispered to himself, careful not the other pups. He didn't want to wake anyone else for something as simple as a drink of water, but where could he get some? The idea came to him a split second later. Oh, yeah. The bowl! I'm just gonna have to make sure no pup, or Ryder, knows I did this. Tiptoeing past Marshall's pup house, he entered the Lookout, and made his way to the nearby bathroom. After a few silent, but quick, drinks, he made his way back to entrance when he heard someone moaning. Rocky perked his ears up as he soon picked up the sound of crying, and wondered who it could be in the Lookout's lower level. Ryder slept in the Lookout, and he lived on the second floor. "…no… get away… please stop… stop it…" whispered the tiny voice. Inching closer to the living room, Rocky spotted a figure, lying in a blanket on the couch, kicking the air while tossing side to side. He then remembered who it was upon closer and seeing his figure. It was the new pup, Zuma. He had only been here for a few days with Ryder announcing he was going to be the new water rescue pup. He others tried to get friendly with Zuma, but the young pup was shy and didn't speak much or play. He was always alone. The only reason he was sleeping in the Lookout because Ryder was still working on his custom pup house which would turn into a hovercraft. Rocky chalked it up to being just nervous. He was the same way seven months ago when Ryder brought him here. Still, it looks like he's having a really bad nightmare. Deciding not to leave the new pup in his trouble state, Rocky jumped onto the couch and began to shake the troubled sleeper. "Hey, Zuma? Wake up, you're just dreaming." "Gah!" shouted Zuma, looking around as if he has seen a ghost. When he saw who it was that woke up him, he took a deep breath and relaxed. "Oh, Wocky. It's you…" giggled upon hearing his name spoken like that. He, like the others, found the little pup's speech impairment to be adorable. "What awe you doing here?" "I heard you having a nightmare, mind if I sit next to you?" asked Rocky, giving him a comforting smile. Zuma hesitated at first, but he nodded and made room for the older mixed breed. The two sat there in the silent dark, letting time slip past them. Finally, Zuma sighed and looked down in shame. "I bet you think I'm a big baby, huh?" "Why would I think that?" asked Rocky, raising his eyebrow. "Well," Zuma rubbed the back of his head. "Aren't we supposed to be bwave wescue pups? It doesn't look very bwave when you have a nightmare…" "Hey, we all get nightmares," said Rocky, put a paw on the rookie's shoulder. "Nightmares can't hurt you, Zuma. They're just like watching scary movies." "… but it was more than a dweam, Wocky," muttered Zuma, closing his eyes as a tear dripped down. "It was a memory." This got Rocky's attention. A memory? Must have been pretty bad for him to have been acting like that. What happened to him? Is he… like me? "I bet you wanna know now, huh?" asked Zuma. "… no, you don't have to tell me," answered Rocky, which made Zuma turn his head in surprise. "Believe me, I know what it's like to go through something bad in your not want to think about it." "What happened to you?" asked Zuma, before wincing. "Sorry, if I'm not willing to tell it wouldn't be fair if" "Naw." Rocky put his paw on Zuma's making the younger pup blush. "It's okay. I'm… learning to talk about what happened to me." Taking a deep breath, Rocky looked stars from a nearby window as he thought about his past life. "My old owner? He used to be a good man. We were the best of pals, and did everything together. But that changed when he lost his job. He got angry… and drunk. I had to clean the place up while he kept hanging out at bars, wasting what little money we had." It was during that he found his love of recycling and turning old stuff into new stuff. His old owner called it stupid, thinking it was wasting time. Ryder said he was like the dog version MacGyver. "Did he… huwt you?" asked Zuma, softly. Now it was Rocky's turn to let out a tear. "Yes." He wiped it away and continued, "He beat me at times when he was really drunk. Then he would apologize later and said loved me. I believed him until one day, he got really drunk. Turns out we were broke. He blamed me for everything. Took me to the tub and… held me underwater." Rocky growled as he remembered the feeling of water entering his lungs, slowly taking his breath away as he waited for the end to come. It was because of that day that he brain screaming for help every time he was wet. "How did you get out of there?" asked Zuma, inching closer with amazement. "I played dead. Convinced my owner he killed me. He just left me there on the floor to rot," spat Rocky, cursing his former owner. He may have loved him once, but that let what little love he had die. "I ran to a neighbor after he fell asleep and he called the authorities. My owner was arrested and put in jail, and I was sent into a foster until Ryder took me in." And Rocky didn't care if his owner was sorry or not. He was glad he would never have to smell his fowl breath or his rambling about the injustices against him when he gotten another job easily. No, he wasn't going to pity the man who tried to kill him, no matter what excuse he gave. He had Ryder. He had the pups. And he swore to anyone feel as helpless as he did back then. Turning to Zuma, Rocky gave him a smile and patted him on the head. "I still get nightmares too, but then I remember that surrounded by my friends who love me, and it goes away. You should think the same thing." Zuma nodded, showing a small smile. "Okay, Wocky." Rocky was about to head out when Zuma grabbed his paw, blushing again. "Um, Wocky? Do you think… you with me tonight? I… I don't want to be alone…" Rocky nodded and snuggled next to Zuma, holding him tight as the two slowly fell asleep next to each other. "Hello? Earth to Rocky!" shouted Marshall, snapping the recycling pup out of his daydreaming. "You okay?" "Ooh, yeah," said Rocky, finding his composure. "Just thinking. Anyway, let's just leave Zuma alone. It's his business after all." "Yeah, you're right," said Chase, nodding his head. He then barked and shook his tail. "Who wants to play tag instead?!" "Me!" shouted the other five pups as they began to chase after Chase. At this current moment, a prison transporter car was driving on route to bring its only cargo for court hearing which was to take place in a few hours. It was manned by officers in the front, while another holding a shotgun stood in the back, watching the prisoner who stood as still as doornail. The prisoner was a dangerous one, who was listed with charges of murder, theft, robbery, assault, drugs, and more. He had a few dangerous friends too, and it was because this that caution was being taken. A fake truck was being protected by cops while the news was airing the scene. The real truck was to take a longer, but quiet route to suspicion. "How much longer?" asked the prisoner, hidden in the shadows. "Soon," said the guard, looking more and more nervous with each passing second. Sweat dripped down his bald head and he held his shotgun even closer to him. "Relax, Officer Palmer. It's not me you should be worried about," said the prisoner, grinning as a gold tooth shined in the darkness. Suddenly, the truck came to a screeching halt. The officer gulped while the prisoner wasn't even fazed. "What's the hold up, officers?" he asked with a mocking concerned "Nothing. Looks like some kind of accident blocking the road," said the driver as the sound of two doors opening followed. The prisoner chuckled before slowly raising his hand, showing all five fingers as he counted down one by one. When the last one was up, four shots rang out in the air, the cop as he held his gun closer. For a whole minute there was nothing. Then light poured in upon the rear doors being open, revealing the prisoner as clear as the sun outside. He had a light bond hair that reached down to his end of his neck; green dye was on his bangs. His right ear had golden ear pricing and his arms were layered with tattoos and scars. Grinning, his eyes showed a hint of amusement as where his posse was waiting for him, the guard right behind him. His gang, consisting of four whites and two blacks, were dressed what you would normally find on your average street thug, holding pistols while they hollered their leader Stretching his arms out like he was a savior, the prisoner hugged each of his friends as they welcomed him back. One of the blacks, wearing a backwards Red Sock's cap, his buddy on the back. "Welcome back, Stone." "Got my baby?" asked Stone as he was handed a black pocket knife. He pressed the switch and popped out the blade, caressing it like it was a priceless treasure. "Oh, you so much, Shiva." He kissed it and began flipping it around. The cop, nervously clearing his throat as all seven set of eyes glared at him, said, "We… we had a deal. I help you get freed. You'd free my family." "Right, I forgot about that," said Stone, tapping his head with edge of his knife. "I kind of have a bad memory for being locked up for nearly two years." He walked over wrapped his arm around the cops' neck. "I said I would have you meet you family again, Officer Palmer. And I never go back on my word." Palmer ready to open his mouth, but all that came out was a gurgle as Stone shoved the pocket knife straight into his throat. He smiled as he twisted it further into the watching blood drip down as Officer Palmer began to choke, struggling against the enviable while his eyes began to lose the light in them. Stone held on as he continued the blade deeper. Whimpering into the officer's ear in his final moments, he said, "Be sure to say high to the wife and kids when you meet them." He finally took out the knife and began to wipe the blood with his prisoner uniform as the dead body fell to the ground. One of the gangsters walked up and asked, "So do now, boss?" Stone smile as he began flipping the now clean knife. "First, I want some real food, better clothes… and then… well we start planning a little trip, boys." "Where to?" "Ever heard of a town called Adventure Bay?" Chapter 2 Zuma was relieved when he woke up the next morning and none of the others bought up the conversation about his fears again. Truth was, Zuma had a fear, but it was he didn't want to think about, much less talk on. He knew the others were just curious, but he wanted to make sure none of them knew about his fear. Or about why of it. Pushing these thoughts aside, Zuma watched his friends from the top of the slide as Chase pushed Skye on a swing set before she jumped up and flipped in the air, safely. She would then get back on and Chase would continue to push, all with a blush on his cheeks. Marshall, Rubble, and Rocky were building sand castles in the sandbox. more like Rubble and Rocky were as Marshall was pretending to be a monster by stomping on them with a bucket on his head. Looking over the park and sunshine it made Zuma sigh with joy knowing that it was a perfect day to play and relax. Maybe I'll head over to the sea later. Do a bit of swimming. Find some seashells… His eyes widened as a realization hit him in the head like a soccer ball at mock speed. "Oh, man!" Zuma quickly slide down the slide and rushed Chase with worry in his eyes. "Chase! Hey, Chase!" "Yeah?" asked Chase, stopping his pushing. "What's up, Zuma?" "Dude, what day is it?!" asked Zuma, pacing himself a he got ready to rush out if today was indeed that day. "Um, May 20th I think," recalled Chase. He was about to say something, but Zuma was already rushing out of the playground for the exit. "Hey! Where are you going?!" "I got to head to the beach and do something! See you guys later!" cried out Zuma, but before he could press further, his tag beeped and Ryder's voice came out. "Paw Patrol! To the Lookout!" "Ryder needs us!" shouted everyone as they howled, following Zuma towards the direction of the Lookout. Although he was disappointed this happened, Zuma knew that his duties as a rescue pup came first and foremost. He took a promise not to let anyone who was defenseless, need of help, down and he was going to keep it. Besides, I can always get the shells later after the wescue. And I might not be needed for it anyway! Running at full speed, and leading the pack, Zuma found himself heading into the Lookout's main doors with his friends right behind him. He turned around and counted his friends. Wait, four? "Hey, where's Mawshall?" asked Zuma as he and the others looked around for their spotted pup friend. "Help! I can't see!" The alerted pups all faced forward and gasped as Marshall, whose eyes was covered by his sand bucket, headed straight for them. They tried to shout out a warning, but too late. Marshall ran into them, knocking them around until they were another heaping pile of pups stacked on top of each other. Again. Marshall finally got the bucket off his head and looked around, laughing. "Fear me! I am the monster known as Marshall! Destroyer of sand castles and wrecker of pups! Paw Patrol defeated I can take over the world!" "Before you do, can you get your butt out of my face?" asked Rocky, feeling uncomfortable. "Of course!" shouted Marshall, dramatically as he turned his head over his shoulder with an evil smirk. At least until the elevator started moving and made him lose his After getting back on all four paws, the Paw Patrol arrived at their mini locker rooms halfway up the Lookout's tower and started putting on their gear. The only difference that Marshall had his new medical pup gear laid out for him instead of his usual fire pup gear. Ryder had the ability to change what gear was to be used based on certain and if Marshall needed to be the medical pup that meant someone was hurt badly. Knowing this, they dressed up even quicker with the intention of helping whoever it called for help. Once they were dressed up, Skye hit the button for it to continue and they lined up in proper order with their minds focused on the upcoming mission. Arriving the top, Chase and Rubble jumped out followed by Rocky and Zuma, then Skye and Marshall last. They stood in attention as a smiling Ryder held out his pup pad. "Paw Patrol ready for action, Ryder, sir!" shouted Chase, putting his paw down. Pressing a button on his pup pad, Ryder activated the big screen to come down and show them a picture of what looked to be two large boats slamming into each other people inside them. Captain Turbot's boat was also nearby with him running around going "help help". Looks like a sea mission after all, said Zuma, with a bit disappointment for having his time cut short, but he smirked and stood further in attention. Well, guess it's time wet. "Thanks for coming, pups," said Ryder with a smile before his face turned serious. "We have a major problem out in the bay. Two tourist boats have collided and are slowly sinking. Captain Turbot's been able to get some passages onboard his own boat, but he's running out of room. We need to help the rest of those passengers get off their safely, and make sure no one's hurt." Ryder pressed another button as Zuma's pup tag appeared along with his hovercraft and another large boat. "Zuma, I need you to tie up one of the boats on the docks to the crash site so we can put the remaining passengers on board." "Let's dive in!" shouted Zuma, stepping forward. Ryder then brought up Marshall's pup tag and his medical pack. "Marshall, we may have some injured tourists who will need to be checked out. You'll ride on the boat dragging. and bring your medical gear." "I'm ready for a ruff ruff rescue!" shouted Marshall, giving a cheering howl. Finally, Chase's symbol came up with his megaphone. "Chase, we're gonna have a lot of panicking people out in the bay. I need you to use your megaphone to help keep the passenger's calm, but help me guide them as well." "Chase is on the case!" replied Chase, puffing his chest out. "Alright, Paw Patrol is on a role!" shouted Ryder as the rest of the pups howled and cheered in response. Ryder headed for his sliding pole while Zuma, followed by Marshall Chase, headed for the slide. Zuma always loved this part as he slide down, raising his paws in the air while cheering at the speeds they were going. While Marshall was struggling to regain his balance, and Chase was howling, Zuma found himself landing in his pup house which soon transformed into his hovercraft. Turning the engine on, Zuma sped down the hill, followed Marshall's EMT truck and Chase's police cruiser behind him. The lower garage also opened and Ryder headed out with his ATV. "We'll split up from here. Chase, you come with me to the edge of our dock and eject into my jet ski. Zuma and Marshall? You guys make your way to the other docks." "Roger, Ryder!" said the pups as they split up. Zuma watched as Chase soon ejected from his car, while Ryder quickly deployed his ATV into jet ski mode. He gave them they sailed away, leaving Zuma and Marshall to drive down to the docks. It didn't take long for the duo to end up on the dock. Zuma drove for the water while Marshall got on one of the large boats. Wagging his tail, he leaned on the edge and "Come on! We gotta hurry up and catch up with Ryder!" "Arf! Arf! Buoy!" commanded Zuma as the front compartment of his hovercraft opened up, and shot out the life preserver and rope. Marshall grabbed it with his mouth sure to secure it on the boat's bow. "Hang on, dude!" Zuma turned his vehicle around and pushed his paw on the gas as hard as he could, yipping with excitement as he sped down the water with the boat following right behind Marshall failed to take his friend's warning as he slipped back and ended up crashing into a fish bucket were the dead fish landed on his head. "I'm good… but kinda stinky…" laughed before getting up and hanging on the boat, tongue flapping in the air. After ten minutes of sailing, Zuma spotted the three boats and began to lower his speed. Ryder and Captain Turbot raised their hands in greetings as the boat was brought Zuma had to admit, things looked really bad. One ship had completely crashed into the middle of the other one as groaning tourists held their families together while covered debris and cuts. Most of the tourists were on Captain Turbot's boat, but there looked to be very little room to maneuver. Up on the second floor was Chase, megaphone out. "Attention passengers! Medical assistance has arrive along with a second boat! Please remain calm, and we'll be able to attend to your needs!" announced Chase. "Good job, pups. You came here just in time," said Ryder to his pups. "Yeah, we got a messy megaton mess of a mishap!" shouted Captain Turbot. "Zuma help me get the remaining passengers on the two crashed boats into the one you brought. Marshall, we got a lot of injured people here who could use your help." "I'm on it Ryder!" shouted Marshall as he leaped over to Captain Turbot's boat and began asking everyone to get in a single line. Zuma waited until Ryder was onboard before moving the boat to the first crashed one. Getting off, the two helped passengers get on, earning gratefulness from them. even petted Zuma and hugged him much to his joy. It was moments like these that he enjoyed being a rescue pup. Once the first boat of passengers had arrived on the Zuma got back on his hovercraft and was about to head to the other one. That's when Marshall called. "Ryder! Zuma! I smell gas and smoke from here coming from the other boat!" "I smell it too!" shouted Chase with worry. "Smoke and gas… that would mean," whispered Ryder as a look of horror appeared on his face. "Zuma, quick we need-" An explosion from the engine of the second boat sent out shock waves as a bursting fireball erupted and everyone screamed. Zuma managed to hang on in his seat, as passengers, but Ryder was flown out and landed in the water. "Wyder!" shouted Zuma with worry. "I'm fine! Ack," spat out Ryder as he shook his wet head. "Get the other passengers! Hurry!" Zuma nodded and drove forward, yelling the other passengers to hang on. The fire was starting to spread across both crash boats by the time Zuma arrived on the other "Evewyone on boawd! Huwwy!" The other passengers didn't need to be told twice as they rushed forward. However, just as the last one was seemingly onboard, someone shouted, "Look over there! down!" Zuma narrowed his eyes and saw what looked like a young adult male lying down, the fire only a few feet from him. Realizing he was unconscious, he ordered the other passengers to stay put as he jumped on board. Making his way to the knocked out man, he was about to grab him when he froze. Suddenly, nothing else in the world Zuma felt his entire body go cold upon what he saw; to the point where even his soul was frozen. The flames of the fire surrounding him couldn't even knock him out of stunned state. His heart started beating faster and faster. He wasn't even sure he was breathing. The man who lay before him has piece of wood dug deep into his back and legs, with second degree burns visible on his right side of his body from the explosion. And blood. Blood on his back, forehead, and limbs all forming into a small pool below him. Zuma started to sake as he saw that pool get bigger and bigger. And with it came screams. Screams of horror, pain and pleading. Visions of furniture covered in blood with a knife cutting into the air, crimson raining down upon his head as he screamed. Screamed until his throat was burning, all for it to stop. But it wasn't stopping. The blood wasn't stopping. "Zuma! Wake up and get out of there!" shouted Chase on the other end of his pup tag. Zuma finally shook his head, but it was too late. Another explosion echoed in his ears. Before Zuma knew it he was screaming, flying in the air, before he landed in the slowly started to sink as his eyes began to slowly shut. All he could think about as the water took him under was the names of those who he could hear screaming. Gweg… Mawsha… Shelly… Moaning, Zuma slowly opened his eyes only to see a white ceiling. He felt his entire body numb as he tried to remember what happened, but all he could feel was a headache pounding his brain. "Hey! He's awake!" Zuma turned around and saw his friends and Ryder rushing up to him with relief on their faces. "Guys? Where am I?" "The hospital," answered Ryder, gently rubbing his pup on the head. "We rushed you here with the other tourists after Marshall got you out of the water. You've been unconscious for a few hours. Thankfully, nothing serious except for maybe a bit of a headache." Zuma gave an understanding nod before his eyes widen. "That man! The one who was left on the boat! What happened to him?!" Upon saying this, the group all looked at each other with sad eyes and worried expressions. Chase took of his police hat and placed it on his chest. "Zuma… I'm sorry, make it. The second explosion got him…" "You mean… he's… he's…" tears began to form in Zuma's eyes as he shook his head. "No… no no no no! Augh!" He turned around in shame and, covering his head with his bed sheet, howling in sorrow. He failed. He failed to rescue someone. Ever since Paw Patrol had formed they lost a single casualty in any of their rescue missions. And Zuma had just brought in their first one. "Zuma, it's alright," said Ryder, placing his hand on Zuma's side. "It wasn't your" "Yes it was, Wyder!" shouted Zuma, emerging from his blanket and growling at his owner. Tears dripping from his eyes, Zuma continued, "It was all my fault! I let him because I fwoze up like a scawdy cat! All I had to do was dwag him to safety and he could be back home with his family! Only now they're gonna know that he died because me! I let that man die, Wyder! I bwought our fiwst failure in Paw Patrol! And all because he was… was…" Zuma gripped the side of his head as memories of three bodies, covered in red, with horrified faces flashed in his mind. "… because what?" asked Rubble, too curious for his own good. "Because he was bleeding!" screamed Zuma who began to yell and began to thrash in his bed, much to the horror of the pups. They had never seen their cool and collected act like this. "I couldn't save them! I couldn't save them, Wyder! I couldn't save them!" A look of realization appeared on Ryder's face as he grabbed Zuma and held him close, despite the pup's screaming and crying. He turned to the other pups. "I need you now." "But Ryder, sir," said Chase, looking worried. "Chase," issued Ryder with a rare serious tone. "I'll explain everything later. I… I need to keep Zuma calm…" The others didn't know how he was going to do that when it looked like Zuma was having a nightmare while away. Still, the five obeyed and quickly left, shutting the door. all stood by in a huddle, listening to the terrified screams of their friend which made their hearts weep. They wanted nothing more than to go help him, but they had their Finally, the screaming soon faded into a whimpering sob. None of the other pups knew it at first, but they soon realized they were all crying. Out of fear or because of in Zuma's tears they didn't know. "Blood…" whispered Marshall, getting their attention. "He's… afraid of blood…" This made all the other pups look at each other in fear. What could have happened to Zuma before he joined Paw Patrol that not only made him afraid of blood… but like Zuma… thought Rocky as he stared at the door where his best friend was suffering in his mind. Chapter 3 He couldn't sleep. He just couldn't. Not when he could still hear Zuma's screams in his ears. Rocky slowly got up and walked away from his pup house, making sure not to wake the others. wished he was by Zuma's side right now, but Ryder ordered them to head home where he would explain everything in the morning. Rocky was going to hold him on that as soon as he came back, and he was sure the rest of the team would too. It had been very awkward to come back to the Lookout without either Ryder or Zuma, especially knowing the emotional state the latter was in. Skye had retreated into her pup house and barley touched her dinner while Marshall tried to cheer everyone up by acting silly. It didn't last long. The only ones who seemed strong through this were Chase and Rubble. Chase was their leader, and he always did his best to make sure he was professional in a time of crisis. He personally fed them ordered them to get some sleep when night began. As for Rubble, the young pup was tougher than he looked. He kept saying that Zuma would be okay and once this was they could go back to normal. Of course, he still was a pup, and Rocky heard him crying in his sleep before hitting the hay himself. Rocky himself didn't speak to anybody. All he could do was think about Zuma and the amount of pain he was going through. He wasn't sure if the others heard what Zuma but he picked up saying that "he couldn't save them". Were these "them" important to Zuma like his family? How did it tie into his fear of blood? A few ideas came to Rocky, but none of them were good ones. Walking down to the edge of the hill, the mixed breed looked up and watched the stars. They say that if you wish upon a star your wish would come true. He hadn't done since he left his old owner when the stars never answered his wishes for him to get better. Still, would it hurt to try again? "Starlight. Star bright. First star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might. Have this wish I see tonight," muttered Rocky, closing his eyes and lowering his head. "Please help, Zuma. I don't care how, but let me help my best friend." "Same here." Rocky nearly gasped before turning around and spotting Chase with a sad smile on his muzzle. He chuckled, "Sorry, I saw you walking and figured I'd check to see if everything was okay." "Couldn't sleep either?" asked Rocky to which Chase shook his head. "What about the others?" "All sleeping, but it took them awhile," answered Chase as he sat down beside Rocky and looked to the stars. "I don't really believe in wishes, but I guess if they can help Zuma then I'm willing to give it a shot." The two friends sat in silence as they watched the stars twinkle in the sky. Sighing, Rocky growled, "I should have gone with him." Raising an eyebrow, Chase stared at had gone with him, maybe I could have prevented him from getting scared and hurt." "Rocky, Ryder didn't need you for the mission. There was no way any of us could have predicted this would happen," said Chase, patting his friend on the back. "Don't yourself 'what if's' it's not healthy. Besides, would you have asked to go on a mission in the water?" "If it meant helping you guys, yes!" shouted Rocky, surprising Chase. "Yes, I hate getting wet but I hate seeing my best friends hurt more! Especially Zuma!" A tear streaked down his cheek. "He… he's like a little brother to me, Chase. I care about him a lot, and knowing he's in this much pain without me by his side? It hurts. I can even say Ryder for ordering me to do this…" "Rocky," muttered Chase before he reached over and nuzzled him. "I know how you feel. I didn't want to obey that order either, but we have to trust him. I'm sure Ryder us everything tomorrow." He gave a small smile. "So why don't you get some sleep?" Rocky was about to say something when a yawn erupted from his throat. "Yeah… I guess I should. Good night, Chase." "Night," he said as he followed the recycling pup until they split up to their respective houses. Thirty-seven year old Detective Shaw hated his job when things went wrong. More often than not they did, and usually that resulted in the chief yelling at him for hours, threatening to take his badge if he ever crossed the line again. Of course, Shaw took it all in stride. With his performance record, the fata** would never kick him off the everyone in the whole district knew it. He was the best cop in Costal City and the jailed criminals could tell you that. Still, fate was a b*tch to Shaw when things went wrong, like it was this morning as he woke up to the worst news of his life. Damian Stone hadn't arrived at his trial hearing yesterday and only now, the next morning, they had found the truck that was supposed to be carrying him. Driving his classic 1962 Pontiac Catalina (His old man's personal car that he received after his death), Shaw found himself in Standfort Woods where CSI and cops were all over the Shaw cursed as he took out a cigarette and lit up, breaking his three week streak of going through a single day without one. Getting out, he walked over to the crime scene the prisoner truck was, along with three body bags. "Stone anywhere?" asked Shaw to an officer who looked new to the force judging by his green looking face. "No, sir. We haven't found his body, just… these three…" gulped the poor newbie who looked ready to lose his lunch. "Two of them were shot multiple times while the last-" "Had a pocket knife shoved into this neck?" asked Shaw, getting a quick nod in return. "Figures. That's his calling card. Goddamn, fata** chief…" "Sir?" asked the officer as the detective walked away. Inhaling the smoke, Detective Shaw closed his eyes and wondered how in the name of the Lord himself he was still a religious person if crap like this happens. His cell and he already knew who it was. Answering it, he shouted, "Well, what do you want to hear, chief? The 'I told you so' or the fact we got three dead cops and a wanted doing God knows what." "I don't have time for your jokes, Shaw! I got everybody on my a** for this and if you don't give me something I swear you're fired!" More like you will be, thought Shaw, rolling his eyes. "Well, maybe if we went with the original plan and having him in that actual line of police protection instead of trying his gang with a single vehicle with only three cops I think we might have been avoiding this situation." "You son of a… ugh, what do we do now?!" "Well, he's not going to be heading back to his crib; we got officers swarming the area. My guess is he's going to head somewhere else, but I don't know where…" answered who was throwing his cigarette away. We finally nailed this bastard and after a year and a half he's loose again. Where the hell is Stone going? "Detective! We found something you should see!" shouted the officer from before. Putting the call on hold, he walked over and saw the officer holding some kind of paper. Looking closer, Shaw saw that it was an article on Adventure Bay's Paw Patrol squad. He recognized it because he knew the leader, Ryder, personally. After all, he was involved in the investigation along with him. "Oh crap," whispered Shaw as he eyed all the six pups shown on the paper except one was crossed out with a pencil. "Zuma…" "Who?" asked the officer, but Detective Shaw was already heading for his car. Once he was inside, he began to head back to the highway and drove as fast as he could with his lights on. "Chief!" he shouted on his phone. "I know where Stone is heading! He's heading to Adventure Bay! I need you to get every officer you can from Foggy Bottom to Eagleton involved. I'm heading there now!" "Why the heck would Stone go there?" "One word: revenge," was all Detective Shaw said before he hanged up and looked through his contacts for a person he hadn't talk to for a year and a half. He knew the possible asleep, but this was important. He waited for the dial to tone until he sighed in relief when he heard a tired voice yawn out, "Ryder here… who is this?" "Ryder? It's Detective Shaw. Do you remember me?" "Detective Shaw? Yeah, I remember you. What's wrong?" "Is Zuma with you?" asked Shaw, praying he wasn't too late. "Yeah, he's with me? What's wrong?" Shaw sighed. "I got bad news…" Much to the Pups shock, Ryder wasn't home by the time morning came. After eating some treats for breakfast, the pups waited inside the living room with bored expressions. They had tried on turning the TV on, but all that was going on was about some escaped prisoner or something. Eventually, Rocky had enough and got up. "That's it! I'm the hospital and find Ryder if he's not coming here." The others looked at each other and nodded before heading to the door themselves. However, they soon heard the familiar sound of Ryder's ATV heading up the hill and excitement as they saw him park in front of the lookout. However, when they saw him they quickly went silent. Ryder's face was pale and his eyes were bloodshot, worse looked like he had seen a demon. "Ryder, sir?" asked Chase, stepping forward with concern. "What happened?" "It's… it's a long story, Chase," muttered Ryder, rubbing his temples. "Something happened and… I'm afraid we're going to be facing the biggest rescue in our lives." "Rescue? Who are we rescuing?" asked Rubble. "It's Zuma," muttered Ryder as he walked into the Lookout. The others gasped as Rocky quickly asked, "Is he okay?" "No…" muttered Ryder, sitting on one of the couches. "After what we just learned… he had a panic attack and had to stay at the hospital again." "A panic attack?!" shouted the pups. "Poor Zuma, but why did this happen?" asked Skye, biting her lip. "What's going on Ryder? We need to know!" shouted Marshall, slamming his paw on the ground. "We've all been worried sick about Zuma, but we can't help him unless what is going on!" All the pups stared at Ryder as he looked at them with sorrow in his eyes. "I promised Zuma to never tell you guys about his past unless he was ready, but it looks like no choice now." He sighed as leaned back against the couch, the pups all sitting down with full attention. "I told you that I found Zuma as an orphan down by Costal City, lied." The others were a bit surprised by this since Ryder never lied to them before but they let him continue. "I went there because I was trying to see if there were any adopted pups I could find for the team. We were missing a water and construction pup, and I at least wanted those filled before we started missions," explained Ryder. "Back then, Zuma had… a family. Two owners who were married, Greg and Marsha, and… a sister named, Shelly." Continued on in Zuma's Fear (Chapters 4 to 6).